Shoo, Fly
by Fourth in Command Cixalea Jwan
Summary: An AU where the world is overrun by kishin eggs, but the ratio of Weapons to Meisters is grossly disproportionate. To survive, the overabundant Meisters will do anything to find a Weapon partner. Anything. No Soul Eater characters. Doesn't take place in the DWMA. platonic!FACE-centric. Jeanne of ArcXFrance is only pairing.
1. Shoo, Fly

**So this is a crossover I was thinking about doing for a decently-long time. I'm not going to explain anything here, but, rather, let you get through it, and, then, I'll try to clarify stuff in the author's note at the end of the chapter. Just stick with me, okay?**

**FOR THOSE WHO HAVEN'T WATCHED SOUL EATER: I will try my best to explain the basic concepts so that you should still be able to follow this. If you have any questions, feel free to PM me.**

**I do not own Hetalia. Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidakaz.**

**I do not own Soul Eater. Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Okubo.**

**The song, "Shoo, Fly. Don't Bother Me," was written by T. Brigham Bishop.**

* * *

**Shoo, fly. Don't bother me.**

"But, please, sir! You have to have some compassion, aru! I'll give you all the money I have!"

In one of the man's trembling hands was a fistful of crumpled, mostly-green bills, and, in the other, a leather wallet. Emptied of the cash, the only thing that remained inside the billfold now was a worn identification card that declared this man Wang Yao and more importantly (something the dealer in front of him was all too aware): another Meister.

"That's not even half of the asking price," the dealer huffed. "Don't insult my intelligence."

"B-but I _need_ a Weapon, sir! Please!" The Meister's hysterical pleads only grew shriller. "You don't understand what it's like out on the streets without one! Ever since my Weapon abandoned me, I have no way to defend myself, aru! There are kishin eggs everywhere! You don't know what that kind of fear is like! I'm begging you, sir!"

The Meister dropped his wallet in favor of grabbing the dealer's arm and pressing the currency, both American and Chinese, to the man's chest. The dealer looked down at the man with distain, shoving the beggar away from him and into the same murky puddle his wallet now floated in.

"Of course I know what it's like. It's the kind of fear that drives people into the desperation that keeps my trade alive. I'm a black market Weapon dealer on the west side slums of this horrible city. If you're looking for charity, go to a church."

The dealer straightened out his suit and left Mr. Wang to soak. The Meister grabbed the sides of his head and let cold sobs rack him before sniffling and looking toward the dealer walking out of the alley with distain.

"I hope the VARGAS company puts you out of business! See how good your trade will do then, aru!"

The dealer hesitated long enough to laugh to himself and answer while he lit a cigarette.

"Ha! Even if they do end up creating an 'artificial Weapon,' the demand for the real deal won't end, and it won't stop people like you from groveling at my feet when they can't afford the 'artificial Weapons.' VARGAS doesn't scare me."

With a satisfied exhale of smoke, the dealer disappeared from the alley and the weeping Meister within it.

* * *

Meanwhile, a blond teen was passing on the grimy street, not far from the alley. The conversation between the dealer and the man faded from his hearing as he walked out of earshot, but his chest still boiled with tight anger.

"Gah! They make me sick –both of them! The dealer –more like _trafficker-_ and the man both didn't give a thought that it was a _human being_ that they were 'trading!' Can you believe that, Matt?"

"…."

When he didn't hear a response, the blond turned and looked to his left where he had last seen his fellow teen only to find him gone. Panic replaced the anger and his heart started to spasm. He spun around and looked back toward the alley; his mind automatically thought the worst had happened.

"_Matthew!_"

"I'm right here, Alfred."

He turned his head so fast he might have gotten whiplash, snapping to his seven-o'clock to see the familiar face of his best friend. He breathed heavily a few times as he tried to convince himself that what he was seeing was true –Matthew wasn't kidnapped. He had just switched from walking on his left side to his right. There was nothing to panic about.

"Dude," Alfred said, running an unsteady hand through his hair, "turn the ninja skills off. You're freakin' me out."

"I'm sorry, but my 'ninja skills' as you say, are entirely product of your poor observation and over-active imagination."

"Ha ha. But seriously, man. How 'm I supposed to protect you if I can't find you?"

"Calm down, Alfred. Besides, it's _my_ job to keep us safe, _Meister_."

Only after Alfred looked and saw how Matthew's small, mischievous smile was twisted on his face did Alfred's trademark grin return. The two laughed as they continued to walk down between the mostly abandoned city buildings.

That's when they heard someone cry out followed by the roar of what was clearly something unnatural.

"Kishin egg?"

"Most definitely."

"We shouldn't risk it. We're still not very strong."

"Hey, the more we defeat; the stronger we get! Let's go! The hero needs to protect the innocent!"

Matthew rolled his eyes, but went along with it so both teens tore down the street toward the sounds. A couple blocks later they saw what was the cause of the commotion. In the middle of the street was a huge kishin egg. It looked more lizard-like than human at this point, a long tail and clawed hands to boot. Alfred couldn't help but shudder at the fact that this is what any person could become if they committed evil deeds, or, in his own definition, became a villain.

In front of the snarling creature was a man, a Meister from how he was using the power in his soul to attack –a technique unique to Meisters called Soul Force. And, this Meister was taking the kishin egg on all by himself!

The Meister was green-eyed and quick, dodging the monster's attacks while taking any opening to strike, but he was tiring. Without a Weapon to help channel his energy, any sort of continuous soul combat would be exhausting. That, and Soul Force is more effective on human opponents or witches –not kishin eggs that don't even acknowledge their souls anymore.

"Have no fear! The heroes are here!"

Both the creature and the thick-browed Meister paused their battle just long enough to shoot a short glance toward whoever was stupid enough to want to enter this fight.

"What are you doing?! Get out of here!" the Meister shouted, turning back just in time for his reflexes to kick in and roll out of the way of the kishin egg's tail swipe.

"Ha ha ha! It's no match for us! Mattie! _Transform_!"

"Right!"

Matthew jumped into the air and disappeared into a shining red light that flew toward Alfred's open hand. Alfred closed his hand in the light and, in a flash, he was now holding a solid hockey stick. Flipping the Weapon around a few times for effect, Alfred finally got into a battle stance, trademark smile now a smirk.

"Let's do this!"

"Just be careful, Alfred," came the small, echoing voice of Matthew from within the Weapon.

He nodded then swung back and brought the hockey stick down hard on the kishin egg's head as it was in mid-swipe at the lone Meister. The monster let out a terrifying screech as it reeled in pain, but it recovered too quickly for any of the humans to take advantage of the opening. The kishin egg then spun around and sliced at its newer opponents. Alfred blocked the attack easily with the shaft of the hockey Weapon.

"Get out of here, dude. We got this!" Alfred said through gritted teeth as he pushed hard against the claws of the kishin egg that reached for him but couldn't due to Matthew being in-between them.

"I'm unarmed but not helpless! _Soul force_!"

The Meister ran with hands sparking and outstretched toward the lizard-like monster, but it abandoned its efforts to kill Alfred and Matthew momentarily and spun around to dodge the green-eyed Meister's attack. It followed that up with an immediate counter attack –a powerful backhand that sent the solo Meister flying into the wall. He slammed against the brick, hitting his head hard enough to make him almost blackout.

"Dude! Are you okay?" the cowlicked blond asked as he watched the man crumple against the ground. However, in his concern, Alfred failed to see that the kishin egg had already gone back on the attack.

"You idiot! Watch out!" the Meister cried as his consciousness slipped.

Alfred only had enough time to turn his head back when he was smacked in the gut by the creature's tail. The hockey stick flew out of Alfred's grip and landed a distance from his reach. His head swam and stars began to cloud his vision as he tried to regain all the breath that was just knocked out of him. With a flash, Matthew untransformed from and scrambled desperately to his feet, but he just wasn't fast enough. The kishin egg was already bringing his claws around for a finishing blow on Alfred.

"_No_!" Matthew cried.

His voice seemed to bring Alfred out of his stupor just in time to bring his right arm up in reflex. Without thinking, a blue light shined and his arm from his elbow to his hand transformed into the business end of a baseball bat.

The beast's claws were deflected, but Alfred cried out in pain –holding his arm tenderly against himself as it had immediately returned to normal afterward. The kishin egg wasted no time to attempt another strike with its other clawed hand, but Matthew, who was running toward the two the whole time, finally reached them and dove toward Alfred –transforming in mid-jump. Alfred grabbed him with his off hand, the one that wasn't injured, and dodged just in time to avoid the swipe of the claws by ducking down and spinning. As he finished his spin, he extended his arm and slashed with all his might.

The kishin egg jolted as the hockey stick sliced through him not unlike a scythe then exploded in a burst of light, leaving behind only its glowing red-orange kishin egg. There was only a heartbeat of stillness before Matthew untransformed again and set upon fussing over Alfred.

"How bad is it?"

"I'm fine."

"You know, you should take this soul this round. It might make you stronger so this won't happen again."

"No. You take it, dude. It's nothing."

"Really now? Then let me see your arm."

Alfred shrunk back, hiding his arm behind himself and out of view.

"I said I'm okay!"

"_Alfred_!"

The cowlicked blond flinched as Matthew was never refused what he wanted when he used that tone.

"Ugh! Fine! …Ouch! Don't poke it!"

Matthew frowned as he even more tenderly now inspected the appendage.

"You're bruised all up and down your arm, but I don't think it's anything serious."

The blue-eyed teen quickly removed his arm from Matthew's grasp and rubbed it gently.

"See. I told you. I'm fine."

Matthew wasn't fooled by the thousand watt smile.

"Al! Your arm is _purple_! That's not 'fine'!"

"It'll heal in a few days!"

Matthew's face became red as he clenched his fists and shut his eyes in frustration.

"_And then what_? You just go until you get hurt again because you_ refuse_ to take care of yourself?!"

"Matt! This is what we have to do to survive!"

"We're not going to 'survive' for much longer if you keep making me take all the souls! You can't even block one attack without bruising up like a freaking banana! You need to start taking them and getting more powerful yourself!"

"Matt, it was our agreement that I would wield you would get all the souls. We've been doing it that way for years! I don't understand why you're so mad at me. I'm _so _not resonating with you right now!"

"Our resonance doesn't even _matter_! We're both _Weapons_! We don't have anyone to resonate with! We're just going to keep going with this charade until we are either kidnapped by Meisters or killed! I can't live like this!"

Matthew's eyes were red and watery, on the verge of spilling over, and his breathing was ragged as if he had just run a marathon. Alfred stood in awe at how distraught Matthew was over his arm getting a little bruised. Usually Matthew was the anchor between them –bringing Alfred down to earth whenever he had a crazy idea or when he was convinced there was a ghost nearby. It was rarely ever the reverse and Alfred wasn't sure he was prepared for it. A tiny sliver of panic rose in his heart again. It was the kind that would make him say anything as long as it kept Matthew from being mad at him.

"I'm sorry, Mattie. I'm sorry. I'll take the soul, okay? Will that make you feel better?"

He nodded.

"You're my brother, Al. I just don't want to see you hurt again."

"Don't worry, dude! I not only protect myself but I protect you too because I'm a hero!"

Matthew shook his head and smiled, his runaway curl bobbing in front of his face rather humorously. Oh, how he wished that simply because his brother declared himself a hero that he actually was one. He tried to snap himself out of solemn thoughts as he retrieved the glowing orb of a kishin egg from the air.

Then they heard a groan from the huddled form of the Meister. He'd finally come out of it and was rubbing the side of his head gently.

"Hey! You're awake!"

The Meister flinched at the volume of Alfred's voice and tried to get his bearings.

"What's going on?"

"Oh, we defeated the kishin egg for you. All you missed was our epic finishing moves. Matthew was just about to eat its soul."

Matthew gave his brother a subtle glare as he himself now _had_ to eat the soul in order to keep up the act. Fine. The next kishin egg soul he would force Alfred to take.

"You put up a hard fight back there and without a Weapon! That was pretty boss!" Alfred continued as the Meister struggled to a stand.

"Lacking a Weapon is what landed me on the concrete in the first place. It would have gone much different, that battle, if I had one."

"What can I say? I was lucky to find Matt!" Alfred exclaimed, slinging his arm over Matthew who smiled softly back. "I'm Alfred by the way!"

"Arthur."

"Pleased to meet cha, Arthur!"

Alfred tried to extend his hand to shake but thought better of it when a lance of pain struck him. Oh yeah. He was going to have to get use to babying his bruised arm. Matthew offered his own instead. Arthur looked at the open hand and took it.

"Likewise."

Then something jolted from Arthur's hand. Matthew could feel the strange energy racing up his arm and zipping through his spine. His back jerked to ramrod straight and he opened his mouth to scream, but the strange feeling overwhelmed him and strangled all the breath from his throat. Something deep inside his chest spasmed, and, against his will, he was overcome with a familiar red glow and transformed into his full Weapon form.

Alfred gasped and paled as the Meister held the hockey stick that was his brother.

"M-mattie…?"

How was it possible that a Meister could _force_ someone to transform? Matthew clearly didn't want to, but it looked like he had no choice! What was going on?

The Meister narrowed his green eyes toward Alfred. There was no way he could know Alfred was also a Weapon. Arthur was unconscious when Alfred partly transformed by instinct to block that one attack, but he couldn't let Arthur touch him just in case. And, on top of that, he had to get Matthew back! How could he fight Arthur without a Weapon and without physical contact?! Arthur was still injured from the battle so Alfred thought if he could just grab Matthew, there was no way he could catch them. Alfred could still be the hero! It was his best bet, so he went with it.

He widened his stance and went for the grab. However, Arthur took the Weapon in his hands and with two swift movements struck Alfred on the head with the top end then shifted and took the business end of the stick down on Alfred's legs. The cowlicked blond cried out and fell to his knees as pain throbbed in his calves. Before he could really comprehend how his plan had failed, Arthur gripped his wrist and it was over.

"No!"

Alfred could feel his body undergoing the transformation he had so rarely had to experience, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

With a flash of blue light, Arthur, the strange Meister, was now holding a red and white hockey stick in his right hand and a star-spangled baseball bat in his left. He breathed a sigh of relief and let loose a heavy-lidded grin. Then he walked down the street toward his flat.

Wouldn't Francis be surprised?

* * *

**This is just something I thought up after watching _Soul Eater_ for the first time. I was surprised to see how few fanfics there were about the Hetalia characters being Meisters and/or Weapons. I'm sad because I would have liked to read more of those kinds of fics, but I also like that I'm doing something slightly unique.**

**Okay. Here's the clarification I promised:**

**-There is a shortage of Weapons in the AU!world and an abundance of Meisters. Because of this, Weapons are often times fought over like trophies or out of desperation for protection from the kishin eggs that are running rampant.**

**-Meisters in this AU are well-practiced at soul combat because they have to protect themselves when they don't have a Weapon, and they are also well-practiced in matching soul resonances because Weapons are too valuable to not be able to team up with simply because the Meister and Weapon can't resonate.**

**-The irony is that because people are kidnapping/selling Weapons, that means that people are being evil and thus turning into kishin eggs, which only makes the situation worse. It's a vicious cycle that has no end in sight.**

**-VARGAS, which you'll find out more about later, is a company that is researching a way to solve this crisis by creating artificial Weapons. Whether that is by robots or genetic modification, no one is quite sure. All everyone knows is that they want the company to succeed because something needs to be done desperately. No one likes the black market, but you have to do what you have to do to survive so there isn't much of a government effort to stop it. Besides, the more people who have Weapons, the fewer kishin eggs there will be…right?**

**I apologize for starting out with awkward and forced exposition by China and a random OC. I know it's not the best writing ever, but I just needed to get that out before the action could really take place. I mean, Arthur had to have a reason for doing what he was doing, and that was the fastest way I could relay that information. Anyway, I'll try not to do that to you again. Sorry.**

**And I don't think we'll be coming back to China for a while. I have a whole side plot that focuses on VARGAS and includes most of the rest of the ensemble characters, but I'm not sure how I'm going to write it in yet or if I even will in this story so just hang tight with me.**

**Moving on, Alfred and Matthew are both blunt-force Weapons. They are kind of doing the thing Liz and Patty can do where one of them wields the other even thought they are both Weapons. They aren't very powerful because they are both Weapons, but at least they can defend themselves.**

**Alfred is very weak as a Weapon because he hasn't ever eaten a kishin egg soul before. That's why he was so easily injured when the kishin egg struck him. Well, that and he's not being wielded by a Meister.**

**Arthur's power will be explained in greater detail later along with many other things. We'll also meet Francis next chapter. Yay! So I hope that helped explain some things. I hope it wasn't too confusing, but I think you'll catch on quickly if you don't already.**

**Okay, about the whole "Shoo, Fly" thing. I don't know why but I thought that this story would go well with the nursery rhyme for some reason, and it stuck. Every chapter will start with a line from a nursery rhyme or children's song, and, hopefully, it will fit the mood of the chapter in some cryptic way.**

**Just a reminder, there will be no romance in any way between any of the four main characters: Alfred, Matthew, Arthur, and Francis. It is completely platonic between them.**

**I am not sure if this will ever be updated consistently for a long time. I've been having major writer's block recently so I'm not going to promise anything. I do have a couple other chapters done so maybe I'll post them some time later.**

**Just to let you know, I respond via PM to every review and I post a thank you to all who favorite in the author's note at the beginning of every chapter.**

**And now that you've gotten a taste of my obnoxiously long author's notes, I ask you to please bear with me as I am very excited to share this story with you all.**

**Review and fav as you so desire.**

**Looking forward to it!**


	2. Baa, Baa, Blacksheep

**So I couldn't wait to post this any longer. So…there. Fast update!**

**Thanks to Yami-sama42, SniperKingSogeking0341, and AciddDare1314 for faving! You are fabulous!**

**So the next part gets a little explanation-heavy. Sorry about that, but I couldn't think of a way around it.**

**I do not own Hetalia. Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidakaz.**

**I do not own Soul Eater. Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Okubo.**

* * *

"**Baa. Baa. Black sheep, have you any wool?"**

* * *

It was darker than Alfred remembered. That was the first thing he noticed upon coming to consciousness in his soul room. He knew there was another reason he so adamantly opted to pretend to be the Meister rather than be the Weapon in his and Matthew's little act.

Yes, he wasn't physically in a room right now; it was representational. Kind of like how the mind makes dreams to provide visual stimulation while asleep, his mind created this room for him to wait in while he was in his Weapon form. The whole visual of the room was all sourced from his brain -or was it his soul? He was never sure, but he expected his soul to at least have a few more lights.

The next thing he noticed was that, although he could see –his eyes could certainly make out the soul room around him—he couldn't see the real world. It worked as a sort of duel vision that he couldn't really explain. Although he was mentally inside in his soul room and physically manifested as a baseball bat on the outside (which inherently didn't have any optic sensors on it), he should somehow still see what was going on in the outside world. He should be able to_ hear _it too.

He furrowed his eyebrows as he listened harder, but he still couldn't hear anything. He tried to sit up, but was then hit by a wave of panic as he realized he couldn't move. He felt as if he had been bound by invisible ropes that pulled tighter on him when he struggled. What was going on?! He tried to call for help -he should at least be able to get his voice heard by those on the outside- but he was unable to even open his mouth!

His heart rate sped up and a cold panic lanced through him. His blue eyes jumped around in their sockets, trying to find any way he could escape or signal for help, but to no avail.

_Help!_ he thought desperately. _Help! Please! Get me out of here!_

He knew it was just his imagination, but he felt the walls of his soul room become smaller –looming over him and down. It was unbearably quiet. The silence was suffocating him. He couldn't freaking move! Someone had trapped him within his own soul! How was that even possible?!

_PLEASE! _

He couldn't take it as his chest spasmed in intense fear. He shut his eyes and tears squeezed out of them. He shook in pure terror, which only caused the invisible ropes to constrict tighter around him, like some sort of large-scale chinese finger trap.

Was Matthew like this too? No! He needed his brother! He needed him! He felt a weight settle on him as his hope started to give out.

_…please!_

* * *

Matthew, on the other hand…_literally_, was in the same situation yet doing a much better job at keeping collected. He established quite quickly that something was horribly wrong. However, what he found most alarming was the connection between him and Arthur.

As a Weapon, he and the Meister holding him (in this case, Arthur) should have some connection between their souls. Each soul, Meister and Weapon alike, had a wavelength much like a tune in music. If the Meister's and Weapon's wavelengths were agreeable, power and energy could flow between them in a transfer called resonance. The greater the resonance between Meister and Weapon, the stronger and more powerful both were.

If a Meister's and Weapon's soul wavelenghts resonate well, the two can form a powerful fighting duo. In combat, the Meister's energy is passed from the Meister's soul to the Weapon's soul through a matching resonance. The Meister's energy is then amplified by the Weapon, and sent back to the Meister via resonance again. Any attacks are now much more powerful than either of theirs would have been on their own.

Since Arthur was currently holding Matthew in his Weapon form, that meant that their soul wavelengths must have been agreeing or resonating at least on the basest level. If a Meister's and Weapon's soul wavelengths were not resonating, they were dissonant. This means that the energy, when it attempts to flow between both parties, it would sort of short out and cause both of them pain. This means that not every Meister can wield every Weapon. However, some powerful Meisters out there were able to manipulate their soul's wavelength to force it to be in harmony with their Weapons' so they could wield them. If Matthew's and Arthur's soul wavelengths weren't resonating at all, if they were dissonant, Arthur would not even be able to hold Matthew without intense pain. That meant that Arthur and Matthew were resonating somehow and energy was being transferred between their souls. Yet, why couldn't Matthew_ feel _that transfer happening?

He wasn't quite sure what to look for because he'd never experienced it before. When Matthew partnered up with Alfred, the two, both being Weapons, weren't able to pass any power back and forth between them. It would be like trying to have a guitar amp plugged in to another amp instead of a guitar. With the exception of autonomous Weapons who specialize in fighting solo, most Weapons would be useless without a Meister.

Even though he wasn't sure what it was like to be partnered up with a real Meister, he figured it would be obvious –a power pouring into him would be rather noticeable, right? He closed his eyes and tried to concentrate. He should be able to find where the energy transfer between his soul and Arthur's must have been happening by instinct. Poking around, he found nothing. Then a thought occurred to him.

What if the Meister wasn't sending any energy, any power through to him? If that was the case, there might not be anything to feel in the first place. Although, he wasn't completely sure on that one.

_That must mean he's not in battle. That's good, I guess._

He opened his eyes to the dimness of his soul room once again. His thoughts drifted to his brother –how he was taking all of this— and their future. What would happen to them now? Would they be sold into the black market? Or would they be taken as personal Weapons for Arthur? It was more likely that it was both. Either he or Alfred would be sold and then the remaining one would become Arthur's new Weapon.

It was clear which one of them was the stronger Weapon so it was just a choice between Arthur keeping the stronger Weapon for himself or selling the stronger Weapon for a higher price.

A grim acceptance settled over him as he tried to mentally prepare himself for the inevitable. Who knew? Maybe Alfred would end up with a Meister that took care of him? Or, maybe, because it seemed there was no way for any sensory information to come through while they were like this, Alfred would be safe like this –unable to feel any pain. He still couldn't stop his mind from jumping to the worst-case scenario. He could picture his poor brother bleeding and broken. The black market dealer or Arthur confused and angry as to why the Weapon was so fragile. Unsatisfied. Sold again. Cycle repeated.

_Alfred._

Matthew felt a small tear grace his cheek, and it never occurred to him that he could cry in his soul room. He was learning all sorts of new things today.

_Please be safe._

* * *

Arthur entered the complex where he and his cousin had been holed up for, well, hopefully not very long anymore considering what he was bringing back with him –if he could just make it up the stairs. He trudged with one foot in front of the other, fighting to maintain the energy that was keeping the two Weapons closed within their Weapon forms. Not only that, but he had to match soul wavelengths with them to even pick them up, and he had to force his soul to match the wavelengths for two distinctly different Weapons even though they were brothers.

He knew the second he saw them that they were kin –more likely twins. The resemblance between them was too much for them not to be related in some way. When he knew one of them was actually a Weapon, he didn't buy the other's charade at all. Genetics controlled if someone was a Meister or a Weapon so if one of them was a Weapon, the other _had_ to be. He guessed he didn't account for the fact that genetics didn't exactly control personality.

The first, the baseball bat, had an extremely…_extreme_ soul while the other's, the hockey stick, was much more subdued. Manipulating his own soul wavelength so it could compliment both of theirs at the same time was draining. He had heard of Meisters who were able to duel wield. In every case, their Weapons were always very different from each other personality-wise, but those Weapons _wanted_ to be partnered with that Meister. Their willingness was the key to it being a manageable feat, and Arthur didn't have that luxury. Besides, he never planned on duel-wielding them anyway.

He forced himself up another few steps and could have sworn the two Weapons in his hands were sucking every ounce of energy he had left straight out his fingers. He finally made it to the door and slammed against it, too tired to even lift his hand to turn the doorknob.

"Francis!" he called out weakly.

"Oui?"

"Open the door, you frog!"

"I regret to inform you that frogs do not 'ave opposable thumbs that would be capable of opening the door for you."

"Fran-cis!"

With that, his finally collapsed to his knees and knocked against the ground hard -his bleeding forehead leaning miserably on the wooden door.

There was a thunder of footsteps, and the door opened suddenly. Arthur pitched forward to fall against the floor in front of the shoes of his cousin. He found himself suddenly scooped up under the arms and dragged into the flat.

"Arthur! What 'appened! …What are those?"

The green-eyed Meister was flipped over to lay on his back and stare into Francis's concerned, blue eyes above him as he tried to hang on to consciousness. The bearded blond looked down at what he realized couldn't have been just regular sporting equipment and paled.

"What 'ave you done?"

"Which do you like better: hockey or baseball?"

Arthur smiled weakly up at him, but Francis only became furious.

"Arthur! What 'ave you _done_?!"

"It doesn't matter," the green-eyed Meister said. "We have Weapons now! We can finally defeat him!"

"By kidnapping?!"

"If I didn't do this, more people would die! I can't wait any longer! With Weapons, we'll finally be strong enough!"

"Arthur, listen to yourself! You are becoming _him_!"

"Don't you dare say that!"

"You are exactly like 'im! You are lusting for power and you do not care who you 'urt to get it! This is not any worse than stealing their souls! You are so powerful already, but that is not enough for you, is it?! The only reason you probably 'ave not eaten a 'uman soul yet is because it is impossible for Meisters to do so!"

Something cracked inside him. It was a shattering clarity that everything his cousin said was true. He kidnapped innocent people! Arthur's eyes were as wide as saucers and he had to remind himself to breathe. He suddenly remembered what he was holding in his hands and threw them aside as quickly as he could, disgust at himself boiling up inside.

With the loss of contact, the Weapons immediately returned to their human forms. There was a second of silence as the two sat up and got their bearings, but it ended the moment the two spotted Arthur across the room.

The hockey stick, the subdued soul, scrambled to hold back the extreme soul who fought to get to Arthur, his intent nothing short of murderous.

"Stay away from him, Al! Stay back!" Matthew cried, holding his brother and keeping him from the Meister with strange and terrifying powers.

"How dare you do this to us! You can't keep us here forever! I'll make you pay!"

Alfred's voice was furious, but his eyes were wide with fright –tears running down his face as he subconsciously pressed himself into his brother's arms. His fight to exact his revenge grew weaker by the moment.

"Please let me explain," Francis said, walking toward the two, but they panicked.

Alfred tried to get to his feet, but he was reminded of his leg injury as well as his bruised arm and so the brothers were forced to awkwardly scoot away until they hit the wall.

"Stay away from us! I'm warning you! I-if you come a step closer, I'll use Matthew to beat your brains out!"

Matthew sucked in a breath as he immediately flinched at the thought of being back in his Weapon form and unable to return. However, Alfred didn't need to follow through on his threat when Francis stopped and held his arms out in a calming manner.

"I will not come any closer. I promise. Just let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain! Let us out of here! Now!"

"I'm sorry!"

The teens were taken aback as the green-eyed Meister dared to speak to them.

"I…am _so sorry_. I…I…."

He looked at his hands with horror and flicked his eyes from one palm to the next, as if he could find the rest of his sentence, his excuse somewhere on them. Suddenly, he found himself encased in strong arms –longer blond hair tickling the side of his face where the other pressed to him. His cousin was certainly touchy-feely, but most of the time he thought it was because Francis knew he wasn't, but this touch was meant to be comforting. He was grateful for it for once, but he still couldn't believe the low to which he'd had to sink to earn this consolation.

"You're right, Francis. How can I ever hope to avenge my family if I'm no better than the one who killed them?"

"Now stop right there. Even if you 'ave 'is same weakness, I will never let you fall into that same darkness ever again. I promise you. You are not the only one who is strong, remember? I will keep you safe."

_"Calm down, Alfred. Besides, it's my job to keep us safe."_

Matthew's own words echoed in his mind as he watched the two interact.

"Let's go," Alfred whispered, "while they're distracted."

His brother nodded and slowly stood. However, Alfred, no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't put any weight on his right leg without being in great pain.

"What happened?" Matthew asked. "Did you hurt your leg somehow?"

"You don't remember?"

"Do you remember anything after you were trapped in your Weapon form?"

Alfred shook his head and leaned hard against the wall for support, balancing on his good foot as best he could.

"Now what?" Alfred groaned, watching the two kidnappers with a cautious glare.

"…You could turn into your Weapon form, and I could carry you out?"

"No!" Alfred said, most likely before he really thought about it.

Although, he didn't recant his exclamation either.

Matthew sighed and walked to his twin's side. Alfred slung his arm over his shoulders and then hopped with him over to the door.

"Wait! Are you 'urt?"

Francis walked toward them, but Alfred almost tripped in a hopping fury to get away. For some reason, Matthew didn't move.

"Can you help him?"

"Matt! What are you doing! They kidnapped us!"

"The least we can do is make sure your leg is taken care of if we caused you the injury," Francis said. "Please, let us help."

Some way or another, Alfred found himself sitting on a counter in the kitchen of his kidnappers having his leg bandaged up.

"Relax. I do not 'ave zee same abilities as my cousin."

Francis was finding it hard to deal with someone who was so obviously terrified of him. There was no need.

"Your cousin is a freak. He has major issues, man."

"Ha ha. All zee Kirklands are freaks, as you say. But 'e is not the one with the most issues. Believe me."

"Worse than being a kidnapping psychopath?"

"You would be surprised. Although I assure you, Arthur is not normally like that."

"Whoo. I'm so comforted. Are you done yet?"

"Almost. Your leg will be very bruised. It will not be fully 'ealed for a few days, but you will be able to walk with some assistance if necessary."

"Alrighty then. You heard him. Let's go, Matt."

"Wait, Al."

Matthew's arm kept his brother from sliding down from the counter. He looked his brother dead in the eyes so he knew he was being gravely serious.

"We can't leave right now. The kishin eggs are always more active at night. With your leg, we won't get three blocks. In the morning, Francis and Arthur can escort us back home. If they are willing, of course."

Francis brightened as he said, "We would be more than willing! We will personally guarantee that you will make it back to your 'ome safely!"

"How do we know you aren't tricking us?" Alfred said.

Matthew resisted the urge to drag a hand down his face when he thought of the perfect solution.

"Alfred, don't heroes give the villains a chance to change their ways?"

There was a long pause before Alfred finally agreed.

"Okay, fine. We'll chill out here for the night. But if your freakazoid cousin," he addressed Francis now, "comes anywhere near me or Matt, I will not hesitate to deal out swift hero justice."

"O-okay. That is a relief. We would not want your great 'ero justice' misplaced," Francis said with a teasing smile, getting up and walking into the other room.

"Hey! I mean it! I'm _Bat_man!"

But Francis was already gone. Matthew chuckled and helped his brother down, giving him the support he needed.

"Let's go find you a place to sit down, Hero of Gotham."

* * *

**I'm going with the more manga-verse for some of this just because I thought it makes more sense. In the anime, someone becomes a kishin egg because they ate a human soul. In the manga, someone becomes a kishin egg because they committed bad crimes, most likely murder. Then the kishin eggs go around eating human souls in hopes to become a full kishin. So yeah. I don't know. It just made more sense in my brain.**

**Arthur's power, as well as his family history, will be slowly revealed as time goes on, but the ins and outs of how he is able to force a Weapon to shift and keep him in that Weapon form will be explained later in the story. Although you are always free to guess!**

**In this AU, because not many Meisters have Weapons and they still need a way to defend themselves, I imagine that many of them would have to try to figure out how to use soul force attacks as well a discipline their soul to be flexible enough to accommodate any Weapon they come across (because who knows when they might ever find one that is better compatible –this isn't the DWMA where they have the luxury to be patient.) I know that, in Soul Eater, those abilities are more reserved for the more advanced Meisters such as Stein and Black Star. Most of the regular population of Meisters in this AU aren't very good at having a flexible soul or using soul force but the point is they have to try. In Arthur's case, he is an advanced Meister so it is completely within his abilities for him to be able to use those techniques.**

**And I totally _had_ to throw in the joke about Alfred being Batman. Come on.**

**Anyway, I hope you like the take on the character's I'm using. I decided to have Arthur and Francis be cousins instead of brothers for a reason that you'll find out later, but, often times, I think that is almost a better description of their relationship: family members that are about the same age but they didn't necessarily share every minute of childhood together. That dynamic just seems better for those two in my opinion. Okay, I'll stop talking now.**

**Review and fav as you so desire.**

**Looking forward to it.**


	3. Pease Porridge Hot

**Well, I don't have all that much to say here surprisingly so let's get right to it!**

**Thanks Atomic Sharks and LilyofAzra for faving!**

**I do not own Hetalia. Hetalia belongs to Himaruya Hidakaz.**

**I do not own Soul Eater. Soul Eater belongs to Atsushi Okubo.**

* * *

"**Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold"**

* * *

"Do you need help putting any of that medical stuff away?"

Matthew stood half-behind the doorframe looking younger than he actually was.

Alfred was currently in the other room on the couch, his leg propped up on pillows as his thumb mashed the television remote. Matthew knew that (one) he would have no say in what they ended up watching anyway and (two) that Alfred's quest to find himself an entertaining show that would satisfy those with a short attention span like his own would keep him occupied for the good part of five minutes. So, Matthew decided he would take the opportunity to see what was keeping their host. After all, he felt awkward for sitting on someone else's couch, and its owner not be present as well.

He found Francis washing out the cloths that had been used to wipe and treat Alfred's wounds. The various products like hydrogen peroxide and such were still covering the kitchen counter. Francis looked up curiously from the sink and then toward the cloth again, giving it a good wring.

"I am not putting anything away yet. I still 'ave to tend to Arthur's injuries. Sometimes I feel like 'is mother rather than 'is cousin."

He gave a pleased but sad smile as he watched the water run over the textured surface of the cloth.

Matthew watched and stammered, "O-okay."

He turned to go, but was stopped when he heard the faucet shut off and Francis call his name. He turned around and saw Francis put down the wet cloth, now folded into a neat square. There was a pause where all Matthew could hear was the rapidly changing television audio in the background. And then Francis looked up at him.

"Why did you convince your brother to stay?"

Matthew's purple eyes dodged around in his sockets. He didn't open his mouth.

"You…are not scared of us like 'e is. What was done to 'im was also done to you so why do you not resent us as well?"

"…I don't know," Matthew said, his voice finally finding volume. "I just think Arthur was sincere when he apologized to us. I have a feeling he won't do it again."

The Frenchman looked toward him quickly, his eyes pinched and analytical.

"What kind of feeling?"

Matthew shrugged.

"The kind of feeling that you trust."

"Hey, Mattie? Where'd ya go?"

Matthew sighed before replying, "I'm right here, Alfred."

With that, the Weapon left and Francis stood alone. He quickly gathered his supplies and went straight for his cousin's room, more questions brewing up in his mind by the second.

He balanced everything in one arm and tested the doorknob with the other. It was unlocked which was good. He didn't know whether Arthur did it on purpose or if it was just something subconscious, but whenever his door was unlocked it was because he didn't want to be alone. That made everything so much easier on Francis.

He pushed through and closed the door behind him. Through the dim light, he saw the shadowy figure of his cousin sitting cross-legged on his bed. He walked over and dumped his supplies unceremoniously next to him while he went to the lamp in the corner and turned it on.

"The better to see you with, my dear."

Arthur didn't respond.

Francis sighed and sat on the bed too, the springs squeaking in protest.

"Scoot over 'ere. You are too spineless to ask for 'elp so you force me to take the initiative. The least you could do is make it easy for me."

He hoped that would illicit some sort of reaction, but Arthur refused to make eye contact as he obediently moved.

Fine. Francis didn't need eye contact to clean him up. It would just take a little longer to snap him out of his state, that's all.

"They do not 'ate you. At least Matthew, that is."

Arthur hissed as Francis maneuvered the cloth around a wound, but, thankfully, after removing the dried blood, it revealed the cut wasn't as bad as it looked.

"Did you feel anything usual when you 'eld either of them?"

"…Why?"

"I am starting to wonder if Matthew might 'ave some degree of soul perception."

"Soul perception? He's a Weapon."

Meisters and Weapons, while both powerful in their own ways, have distinct abilities. Weapons can, obviously, turn into a large Weapon and act as a battery to their Meister's abilities. Meisters, other than wielding Weapons have two unique abilities that originate from their souls: soul perception and soul force.

While soul force is offensive, soul perception is defensive. Soul force sends forced soul wavelengths through another person. Just like how if a Meister tries to wield a Weapon with whom his or her soul wavelengths do not agree/resonate, it causes the Meister and Weapon extreme pain. If a Meister is powerful enough, he or she can cause that painful backlash on purpose. If the Meister can force a burst of his own soul wavelengths through anyone, particularly another person, the opponent's soul wavelength and the attacker's soul wavelengths do not match and the repercussion causes serious internal damage to the opponent –and the opponent only.

Soul perception isn't painful, but the information gained by using it can be useful for combat. Soul perception is the advanced ability for a Meister to read another person's soul. This can include determining the personality of others, the opponents' wavelengths, and how powerful the opponents are. This information can be used to find out the best way to defeat the opponents and what wavelength to use to be the most effective against them when using soul force.

To make it short: soul force is a huge Taser and soul perception is being able to read the bad guys' stats. Simple as that.

"It is not unheard of for Weapons to 'ave soul-based powers."

"But it is extremely uncommon. Usually only characteristic to extremely powerful Weapons like Death Scythes. Are you suggesting they are somehow comparable to the most powerful Weapons in the world?"

Francis was proud of himself for helping his cousin find his voice again. Arthur couldn't resist being smart even if it meant he had to break out of his solemnity.

"Non. I am just asking if you felt anything. Perhaps something more like _potential_?"

"I was more focused on returning to the flat conscious than anything else at the time. Besides, my soul perception has always been minimal. …What makes you think that they might have powers? Aren't you able to tell?"

"Matthew said 'e believed your apology," Francis said as he wrapped the last bandage around Arthur's head. "'e said 'e 'ad a feeling about you."

"He is more likely a naturally trusting person. Either that or simply naïve. At least his brother still has the sense to hate me."

Francis couldn't help but let himself frown at his cousin's miserable state. Injured and full of self-loathing.

"You know, perhaps you should try talking with those two. I am not saying you 'ave to be best friends, but, maybe, you can prove to them that you are more than just your one mistake. They know you at your lowest. Show them what you are like all other days."

Arthur didn't say anything but remained frozen where he sat. Francis gathered the medical supplies and leaned against the door. He didn't make Arthur get up hoping, praying that he would just hop up on his own soon. He closed the door to his cousin's room and threw the medical supplies into his own room that was just across the hall from Arthur's. After everything fell into one huge heap in the room, he turned back to the hallway and, once again, bypassed the living room –Matthew's eyes following him the whole time. Francis knew exactly how to get Arthur out of his room and talking to Alfred and Matthew. And he could do it without using force or waiting for Arthur's conscience. He entered the kitchen and began to work.

* * *

Alfred was just starting what would have been his eighth "Scooby Doo" episode in a row when he found himself suddenly standing at the entrance to the kitchen with little recollection as to how he even got there –even with his hurt leg. All he knew was his nose would rather die than leave the immediate area of the heavenly scent wafting from the kitchen.

"What are you cooking, Francis?"

Alfred jolted when he saw that his twin was also standing in the doorway. Although he guessed he shouldn't have been surprised. Not when the food smelled that good.

"It is a special Bonnefoy family recipe. Go ahead and sit at the table. Supper will be served in just a moment."

How was it even possible for a human to make food that smelled that good? That was what Alfred and Matthew were thinking as they stuffed their faces with the heavenly goodness that Francis presented to them.

"It's too good. Like, unreal. It has to be laced with poisons or something. And the scary thing is, I would probably still eat it. I mean, if I have to die, I want it to be like this."

"Well, you're going to die if you don't chew before you swallow, Alf."

"I don't even care. After a meal like this I'm ready to go. There is nothing that could possibly be better than this. I'm content. I'm just going into a coma. Don't wake me up. Ever."

"Well, at least get yourself to the couch before you do that. If you pass out before that, there is no way I'll be able to lift you."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No. I'm calling you an anaconda. There is no way a human could have swallowed all that food."

"I'm a snake? Sweet! Now hand me that plate or I'll bite you!"

"You're four years old, I swear."

"I'm a four-year-old snake?"

"Just take the plate, Alfred!"

Alfred cackled manically and grasped the plate with greedy hands. Francis watched them with amusement but looked toward the hallway with expectation. Surely the smell of the food made it to Arthur's room by now. A blond figure slowly peaked around the corner and Francis smirked. He knew his cousin couldn't resist.

"I knew it would not take long. Join us, Arthur! It is your favorite, after all."

Arthur's green eyes were staring at the food, but then he saw the glare Alfred was sending his way –reminding him that he was a monster, a horrible person. What was he thinking, coming to eat with them? He didn't deserve Francis's food. Suddenly, all the guilt that knawed at Arthur's stomach overpowered the hunger.

"I…I'll eat later."

Francis's face fell as he watched Arthur slink back to his room. He shot Matthew and Alfred a plastic smile and got up to take his plate to the kitchen. Matthew watched with concern –looking at the empty hallway, the kitchen doorway, and Alfred with sympathy.

"Want me to help you to the living room so you can watch some more TV?"

"As soon as I hit the couch, I'm going to sleep for, like, a year."

"You do that, Alf."

After making sure his brother was settled, Matthew returned to the dining room. Using the clean plate that had obviously been saved for Arthur, he filled it with some of Francis's cuisine and slipped into the hallway.

He knocked softly on Arthur's door and asked if he could come in. Arthur opened it out of pure curiosity.

"I, uh, heard that this was your favorite. I think Francis made this meal for you actually so I think you should have some. Um, here."

He held out the plate, his head bowed sheepishly.

"…Why are you doing this for me?" Arthur asked, accepting the plate with a confused expression.

Matthew scratched the back of his neck and shrugged, bleeding modesty and humility, and a tiny bit of Arthur allowed himself to be forgiven. Matthew stepped into the hallway and grasped the doorknob to close it again.

"Goodnight, Alfred. …I mean, Arthur!" Matthew's face flushed bright red. "I mean, I should get back to Alfred. Uh. Sorry. Goodnight."

He shut the door quickly and left Arthur holding a cooling plate of food in his hands and questions flooding through his head. At first he was shocked by Matthew's slip up, but then he realized he got his answer –why Matthew was being so nice to him from the beginning. He saw some part of Alfred in him.

"But what does that mean?" he asked himself.

It could mean that Alfred likes to be alone when he's sad, but it could also mean that Alfred is also hiding dangerous powers. Suddenly, the game changed. Was Francis right? Were those two actually extremely powerful? Were Francis and him in danger from housing them? What if Arthur's power was the only thing that could protect his cousin? But wouldn't Francis have noticed something? What if that was part of how powerful they were –they were able to disguise their true strength?

Questions raced through Arthur's mind, but he came to the same conclusion every time: in order to protect himself and Francis, he would have to be present where the threat was. He would have to spend time with them.

Arthur cringed and breathed out harshly through his teeth. It was not going to be a pleasant day tomorrow. He decided to turn in for the night. He turned around and was reminded of the food in his hands. …Maybe he'd go to sleep in a few minutes.

* * *

"I thought you said you were going into that food coma you talked about, eh?"

Alfred gave a half-smile which wasn't a good sign. Matthew came and sat on the arm of the couch.

"I can't. The hero always takes first watch."

"Watch? Watch for what?"

"So we don't end up kidnapped or something again, dude!"

Matthew resisted the urge to facepalm but knew that once his hero complex started to act up, his grasp of logic went down.

"You can barely keep your eyes open, Al. Besides, the bad guys never attack this early into the night."

Alfred seemed to mull this over and nodded.

"Okay. But make sure you wake me up in half an hour, got it?"

Matthew threw a spare blanket Francis set out for them on top of Alfred and sat in one of the lay-z-boy chairs as he took first 'watch.'

"Of course. Goodnight, Al."

His twin was snoring within ten minutes and he took that as his cue. He gathered up the other blanket and curled up into the plush seat of the chair. He would just tell Alfred that he fell asleep. Alfred would then forgive him because sidekicks were prone to such weaknesses, but insist that they were just lucky nothing bad happened and that he take first watch next time. Matthew knew Francis nor Arthur would harm them. In fact, he and Alfred were probably the safest they'd ever been because Francis and Arthur were there. If only Alfred could see it.

* * *

**Is Arthur just being paranoid? Or are Alfred and Matthew crazy powerful? Is Alfred hiding a dark secret? Find out next time if I ever update this again!**

**I have no updating schedule, and this is the last full chapter that I have finished from when I first wrote it. I have a little of the next chapter, but it's not done.**

**I'm kind of in a little writer's block rut for many of my stories right now -the toxic kind where I'm bored with my own stories. So, who knows if I'll ever actually finish this. I have a lot planned out for it in the general plot, but it's the inbetween parts that I'm not sure I can push myself through.**

**Oh, well. I'll write something eventually. I can't seem to get away from fanfiction nor can I stop writing so chances are I'll post something even if it's not this.**

**Thanks for your support for this story anyway! You're awesome!**

**Review and fav if you so desire.**  
**Looking forward to it!**


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